


Downright Wicked

by ruenesca



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 20:02:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10446273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruenesca/pseuds/ruenesca
Summary: Deadlock figured Wing had a bit of a naughty streak, but he didn't know he could be downright wicked.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gift to Kuukkeli](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Gift+to+Kuukkeli).



Deadlock knew that Wing had a rebellious streak and that the preachy jet wasn't just a blind follower that had been brainwashed. Wing sneaking out of the city to free a bunch of slaves and coming home with a Decepticon had proved that well enough.

Besides that, Deadlock had only managed to catch glimpses of the white knight's subtle and not so subtle defiance against the tight aft known as Dai Atlas whom he had only heard of thus far (but by the comms he most definitely sounded like a aft) He saw it in the way Wing would intentionally take just a bit longer to answer the demanding mech's comms, especially when he knew he was in a particularly foul mood. Or on the rare occasion he was allowed to leave the habsite (with the jet at his side of course) Wing met all the looks of disgust shot in both of their directions with a hardened gaze of his own that just spoke a silent challenge to anyone who even dared.  He even saw it in how Wing refused to look at him like all the others did, or at least pretended to anyways. 

What Deadlock hasn't known is that Wing could be downright wicked, pinning him up against the wall of the citadel with Dai Atlas half a hall length down and around the corner. Close enough that they could both hear the low rumble of the giant mech's voice. 

Wing looked at him with  heavy lust that sent a shiver down his spinal strut. The look was somewhat reminiscent to how his clients use to stare at him before they proceeded to frag him into the nearest surface without a care for what he had actually wanted at the time. 

Deadlock hated it for the feelings it brought up, the feeling of being used. He could pretend, like he used to do in the gutters, pretending that the mechs he faced didn't just want him for his valve, his mouth, or any other hole he had to offer, making it a bit more bearable. Just like he could pretend that Wing wasn't just fragging him to get back at Dai Atlas somehow and making some sort of obvious statement of rebellion. 

Why was he so concerned with Wing's motivations for fragging him anyway? (this time or any of the other times they had done it) He would hopefully get a overload out of this and he couldn't deny the thrill he got from "corrupting" Wing right under that self-righteous aft's nasel ridge just a few feet away. Still, it was a pretty fragged up situation regardless of how he looked at it. 

The sudden warmth of Wing's frame and of his mouth suddenly wiped all other thoughts from Deadlock's over active processor. He felt like he was being devoured as Wing dipped and hungrily moved his mouth against his own, as though he were a starving mech partaking in a most delectable feast. Deadlock couldn't help but respond to that hunger with his some of his own, especially with the way Wing's field pushed against his, almost overwhelming with it's desperation and need.  He could almost pretend it was genuine.

A low growl escaped the Decepticon's vocalizer as Wing pressed in even closer, crushing his body between the the wall and the jet's aroused frame, to nestle snuggly in between his parted thighs. Deadlock retaliated with a sharp nip to Wing's bottom lip, sharp fangs catching on the metal and sinking into it slightly. 

Deadlock smirked against Wing's mouth as he heard the jet let out a small hiss, breaking away from his mouth finally as a small trail of energon leaked down the knight's chin. Wing quickly leaned down again and began attacking his neck cables with all sorts of sharp nips and harsh sucks that sent a wave of arousal straight to his now leaking array.

Servos moved down to grip Deadlock's hips as the knight shifted even closer (if that were even possible) taking some of his own weight so that it rested atop Wing's own hips. The new position lined their panels up perfectly as the jet ground them together carefully, trying to avoid the loud screech of metal being scraped together and not alert the other mechs down the adjacent hall.. Deadlock bit his lip plate to keep the groan that kept threatening to leave it from escaping, relishing the heat and friction coming from the other bot.

A faint click that sounded suspiciously like Wing's interface panel was heard just before he felt the wet tip of Wing's pressurized spike slide against his abdominal plating, smearing some of his warm transfluid against them. He couldn't hold back a muffled noise of appreciation as Wing caught his mouth again in a searing kiss, twining their glossae together briefly before pulling back to whisper against the warrior's lip plates.

 "Please Drift, I need you." Wing said in a low quivering voice that had the Decepticon opening his panel before he could put any kind of rational thought into denying the needy flyer.

The racer felt himself be hoisted further up as Wing gripped the back of his thighs firmly, and with some awkward  maneuvering on both of their parts, he felt the spike make contact with the entrace of his valve, almost as if to silently ask permission first. Why did Wing even care? Deadlock didn't get a chance to mull over the question before Wing moved his hips to slide his spike inside with exact precision. 

Deadlock's ventilation hitched as he felt Wing slide all the way in to the hilt, sharing Wing's ventilation for a moment as they both panted against each other's mouths.  He wrapped his legs tightly around the white knight's waist to make the positioning and movements smoother for the both of them. They had wasted enough time already as it was. They needed to finish this quickly before they were found out and he had to go through another lecture about being some kind of scourge upon the perfect paradise they had created.  

Clever servos moved from their placement on Deadlock's thighs to slide up the sides of his frame and up his curled arms. The warrior silently watched as Wing gently removed them from their wrapped position around his neck and brought them up to lightly pin them against the wall, intertwining their servos together in a way that seemed almost intimate. 

 Golden optics bore into his as Wing rolled his hips with a series of unhurried and fluid motions that left them both gasping at the sensations it brought them both. The slow drag in and out of his valve was a direct contrast to the roughness they had both shown thus far. Deadlock wanted to tell him that he wasn't fragile and to frag him hard already, but the noise-

 It was maddening, but in the best of ways as it lit up sensors along his lining every which way. It felt so slagging good, especially with the way Wing kept pushing in deep until their pelvic plates barely made contact and then ground into the top of his valve, against his ceiling node in a way that pulled a low rumbling groan from his chest plate that he couldn't have suppressed even if he had wanted to.

Wing finally decided to freed their servos from their pinned position against the wall in favor of moving down to firmly grip underneath the backs of his thighd, further hoisting the speedster up against the flyer's frame.

Sharp claws dug into the jet's back-plating, as Deadlock grounded himself against the pleasurable sensations and charge tingling all over his frame, ultimately settling around his throbbing array. Deadlock got the utmost satisfaction from the heated groan Wing gave him as his own valve clenched hungrily around him, attempting to somehow draw the knight even further into him. 

Both mechs were left panting as the warrior's ceiling node was continuously ground into, without mercy, over and over again, sending delicious tightening ripples through both of their joined equipment. 

Deadlock couldn't help the low groan he made when he felt the pad of a servo begin to rub his anterior node, rubbing and rolling over it with tight circular motions of a clever thumb digit, intensifying his pleasurable that much more. The pressure in the pit of his stomach was building rapidly, a few more of those well aimed thrusts and Wing would have him overloading, and judging by the way Wing's hips were increasing in both their force and speed, Deadlock could tell Wing wasn't all that far behind either. 

A few more well aimed thrusts against his ceiling node were all it took to have the Decepticon overloading as his valve clenched hungrily around the spike still buried deeply inside of him. One last long groan was pulled from Wing before he too followed right behind into completion. 

They stayed like that for several moments, frames locked and joined, and panting against the other. For exactly how long Deadlock wasn't sure, but it was the sound of approaching pedefalls and vocals that finally managed to separate them from each other, each letting out a small hiss at the abrupt disconnecting of their equipment. 

Deadlock kept his optics trained on the wall even as the other knights approached the pair and he felt the burn of several pairs of optics upon his plating. He payed no mind to the harsh scrutiny or whispers being made around him as he internally vowed yet again to find a way out of this pit spawned underground prison. 

Wing had somehow managed to distract him once more, but the moment the jet decided to leave him alone again, he would follow through with his escape plan. 

Deadlock would be free of this place, and more importantly.....or MOST importantly...of Wing himself. 


End file.
